The thought brought a great peace to his soul; he even smiled when he saw that the bunkhouse, which had sheltered the many cowboys whom he had hated, seemed ready to topple to destruction.

The smile grew when his gaze went to the windmill, to see its long arms motionless in the breeze, indicating its uselessness.
When he had concluded his examination he did not ride boldly toward the ranchhouse, but made a wide circuit through the wood, for he wanted to come upon his father in his own way and in his own time; wanted to surprise him.

There was no use of turning his pony into the corral, for the animal had more life in him than the two forlorn beasts that were already there and would not stay in the corral when a breach in the fence offered freedom.

Therefore, when Calumet reached the edge of the wood near the front of the house he dismounted and tied his pony to a tree.
A moment later he stood at the front door, filled with satisfaction to find it unbarred.

Swinging it slowly open he entered, silently closing it behind him.